


The Chaiselongue

by Salai



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Light BDSM, M/M, Master/Slave, Masturbation, Voyeurism, after sex - Freeform, basically this is pure smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 07:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7748971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salai/pseuds/Salai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is pure porn for the fandom. Marius x Armand/Amadeo</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Chaiselongue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tickedtabbyflower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tickedtabbyflower/gifts).



> Just something quick to vent. Enjoy.  
> (I'm not a native speaker, feel free to point mistakes out)

Armand was laying on the chaiselongue that was upholstered with dark blue jacquard fabric and stood in front of a lit fireplace, his dainty naked feet were resting on a silken pillow adorned with a fine lace trim. His long soft hair fell like a cascade of rich blood from the cushioning's brim down the furniture's dark carved ebony wood while his ivory chest rose and fell with every even breath. The reverberation of the flames painted the scenery with golden hues.  
The rosy nipples were still red and swollen from impetuouly sucking lips They rose from his milk white skin like two pearls of sugar. The androgynous boy's amber eyes were overshadowed by long lashes and he languidly gazed into space whilst memories came to life on the bottom of those honey filled orbs.  
Armand's head was turned to one side. The shine of the quietly crackling fire let his still moist lips gleam like nacre of a pearl. In the corner of his pouting mouth there glistened a wetness, its trail smeared towards his cheek. His delicate neck and shoulders were strewn with dark red marks, glaring like drops of blood on virgin snow on his usually immaculate skin, a testimonial of violent kisses.  
Absentmindedly the youth let his fingers roam over a blemish of similar sort on the inside of his upper thigh, breathing in deeply when he felt the subtle pricking radiating from the spot that served to fan the embers that were still burning inside of him.  
Closing his eyes he started caressing his naked skin. He shuddered when he touched a tender place near his groin and his flat stomach tensed and trembled for a moment with raising thrill.  
Deliberately he skipped the sensitive area between his legs, that came back to life throbbing and rose, spurred on by the thought of bigger, stronger hands on his skin that burned with need. Scraping across his right thigh his fingers found the fabric of torn stocking that was hanging loose because he hadn't had the time to take it off completely. The matching piece however was already laying on the floor. Turning his torso slightly to one side he hooked his index finger beneath the thin fabric's beribboned fringe, relishing the feeling that arose when the single and last piece of garment left on his body slipped down his leg, until it pooled around his ankle. Stretching his instep he bent his foot downward, until the silk slid off his toes, pooling on the floor.  
His hand grabbed the pillow his feet had been resting on and Armand lifted his pelvis, placing the soft cushion underneath, bending both knees and digging the balls of his feet into the precious jacquard, pressing his heels against his ass.  
His hand stayed on the pillow when his firm behind sank down on it, the other one took a firm hold of the backrest of the expensive furniture.  
Armand turned his head the other way, so his hair swirled around his ivory shoulders. His even teeth took the lower lip between them when his slender fingers slid over the hidden entrance, playing at the rim before carefully sliding in.  
A dark moan escaped Armand's throat when he let his head roll back, opening his mouth to gasp for air whilst his fingers pushed in and out faster and faster. Each time he thrust them inside up to the knuckles and pulled back out, almost all the way before shoving back in deep and curling them in a desperate attempt at reaching the one spot within.  
After few agonizing minutes his rhythm broke. His trembling lips gasped for air, his free hand was tangled in his hair whilst the other was still trapped beneath his body, both fingers buried in his now lightly puffed rosette. When he slowly pulled out they were shining from a slick coat and milky-white drops were seeping out his anus, onto the pillow.  
Amber eyes opened, inspecting the man that until now had been a silent voyeur in the chair opposite the chaiselongue, watching the sensual display.  
„Are you going to keep watching or will you give me what I need, Maestro?“

 


End file.
